Another Kind of Story
by cappedpen
Summary: What if things really did happen the way the Capitol thought they did? What if Katniss had been falling in love with Peeta the whole time? What if it was never a lie?
1. Chapter 1

Another Kind of Story: What if things really did happen the way the Capitol thought they did? What if Katniss had been falling in love with Peeta the whole time? What if it was never a lie?

Chapter 1

(I know Katniss is very OOC but that's kinda the point of this fanfic.)

Katniss POV

I felt breathless as I stood on the stage. My eyes swept over the crowd. Prim was practically hyperventilating in my mother's arms. Gale had been led back to his section by a Peacekeeper. The girls looked sad, yet understandably relieved.

Who would be my tribute counterpart? I was barely holding it together as it was. If Gale's name was drawn, I might completely fall apart.

"Peeta Mellark!" Effie's shrill voice rang out. NO!

Oh no. Not him. Please not him. I craned my neck until I found Peeta in the crowd. The Peacekeepers found him the same time I did and started to somewhat forcibly lead him onstage. I felt exactly how I had when Prim's name was called, only worse because I could not stop them from taking Peeta. I could not move. His brilliant blue eyes found mine, and despite my inexplicable panic, I felt warm when he didn't look away. In the back of my mind, I wondered what he found in my bland gray eyes interesting enough so to not look away.

Peeta and I… in the Games together. It couldn't end well, not with how much I owed him. He had saved my life, and now it would be impossible for me to return the favor, or even thank him. I had to get back to Prim! But… I could never kill Peeta…

I couldn't have this feeling… this desperate, devastated emotion, whatever it was. We were about to be shipped off to death. I had to stay focused on what was at stake here. I owed it to my sister to come home… way more than I could ever owe Peeta Mellark.

But… wasn't he… over anyone else… meant to live?


	2. Chapter 2: A Good-Hearted Man

Chapter 2

After the goodbyes, I felt more resolved than anything else. I had to get home to Prim. I had to. I promised her. And as for Peeta… I would figure that one out later. But I knew, I just _knew_, that I would never be able to kill him if we came face to face in the arena. Could he kill me? He didn't owe me anything.

We boarded the train, Effie's voice fading out as I looked back at District Twelve disappearing behind us. I forced my gaze away, trying to stay strong. Peeta looked at me and smiled sadly. There were tears in his eyes, a sight that nearly broke again my already broken heart. I looked away quickly.

"Aren't you _thrilled_ to be here?" Effie squeaked. Neither of us responded. Effie stared at us for a moment, huffed, squeaked, and left, I guess to find Haymitch.

"Have you ever met him?" Peeta asked me.

"No, he's kind of a recluse and after today, I understand why," I replied, smiling at the recent memory of Haymitch tumbling off the stage.

Peeta laughed, and I smiled. Then I wanted to hit myself. What was I thinking, talking to Peeta like we were friends? And telling a joke? Where did that come from? I quickly shut up. Luckily, Haymitch saved me from any further conversation with his entrance.

Peeta looked up, seeming as relieved as I felt. Haymitch stumbled over to the wine counter and poured some into a mug. In that moment I knew we were doomed.

"So when do we start?" Peeta asked. I stared at him. Couldn't he see that Haymitch was hopeless?

"Whoa, so eager," Haymitch mumbled. "Usually they aren't so…"

"Are you going to do your job and help us?" Peeta asked, frustrated.

Haymitch responded by turning to his left, vomiting, and dropping off his chair into the pool that it had created. Peeta got up to help him, and I reluctantly joined him. Once we got him to the bathroom, Peeta told me to go to bed, that he would take care of Haymitch. He even refused a Capitol attendant's assistance. I realized then that Peeta was just a kind, good-hearted man. People like that normally don't last long in the Games. Upon this epiphany, I felt an echo of that same panic from this morning.

"Are you sure?" I asked Peeta. I felt bad leaving him.

"Yeah, don't worry. It's not like he'll remember this in the morning. We'll get him to like us when he's more sober," Peeta chuckled. "If that's even possible."

"No, I didn't mean…" I tried to explain. But right then, Haymitch turned and almost pulled me down with him. I shut my eyes, expecting to hit the ground- or worse, Haymitch- when instead I fell into someone else. Peeta.

I opened my eyes, my face in his broad chest, and he pulled me off him with gentle hands. We stared at each other, our "mentor" forgotten. I looked into his cerulean eyes, and saw something there that was foreign to me. I felt his breath on my face, and closed my eyes and sighed.

Then I snapped them open. What was happening? I quickly stood up, not looking at Peeta.

"I'm gonna go to bed," I mumbled, trying to shake off whatever that was.

Before I could reach the door, I heard a soft voice behind me. "Good night, Katniss."

I shivered, not turning around.

"Good night, Peeta," I whispered.


	3. Chapter 3: An Impression

**Happy Father's Day everyone! Review please?**

Chapter 3

I walk quickly to my room. What am I going to do? I don't want to deal with this! I have to get over whatever affection or friendship I feel towards Peeta. I head to bed and fall asleep, despite my restlessness.

_I look up. Where am I? Than I see the tree where I normally hide my bow and arrows. I'm in the Meadow. There's a movement from behind the trees, and I step back, afraid. Then out of the shadows walks Peeta, who smiles when he sees me. I smile back, strangely overcome with indescribable happiness._

_I run to him and leap into his open arms. I clutch his broad shoulders and he wraps his arms around me, murmuring my name._

_"Stay with me," I whisper._

_"Always," he whispers back._

_I draw back and look at his face. He tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear, and lets his hand trail down my jaw to tilt up my chin. He whispers my name again, and starts to draw me closer. I close my eyes and…_

"Wake up! It's going to be a big, big day!" Effie squeals.

I shoot up, shocked out my… dream. It was just a dream? What the hell?

"Up, up, up!" Effie exclaimed. Then she left to go wake up the others.

I fall back into my pillows, stunned. What was happening to me? Did I feel this conflicted just because I owed him? Or…

No, no, NO! There was neither logic behind nor hope for that. Beside, Peeta could never… I had to get a grip.

I walked to breakfast slowly; unsure of how I would feel seeing Peeta now. When I walked into the room, Peeta turned and gave me a huge smile. Just the sight of those incredible eyes sent me back into my dream, and the same pure joy rushed through me again.

"Good morning, Katniss," Peeta said in his deep voice.

I blushed. "Good morning, Peeta," I mumbled.

"Did you have nice dreams?" Peeta asked.

"Yes," I replied, lightheaded.

I shook it off, gathered myself, and asked Peeta, "How was last night for you? Tucking Haymitch in must have been _so_ fun."

Peeta laughed. "Actually, the best part was when he started asking me to sing him to sleep."

"No way."

"Yes way. It's too bad you left," Peeta said, "Your voice is wonderful."

I look at him, shocked. "When have you ever heard me sing?"

"The first day of kindergarten, remember? You sang the Valley Song."

"I remember," I said slowly, "but I'm surprised that you do."

"You made quite an impression on me," Peeta said softly.

At that moment, Haymitch walked into the room. He looked a little better than he did yesterday, but still not completely sober. But things did go well, at least in comparison to yesterday's session. When Peeta stood up to Haymitch and finally made him see reason, it made his character even more admirable.

When we arrived, Peeta started waving at the crowd. I stared at him.

"C'mon, they could be sponsors later," Peeta urged me, smiling.

Tentatively, I walked up to the window with him and started waving too. I caught his eye, and we both looked away, blushing.

When we had to go to meet our stylists, I felt sad at the prospect of leaving Peeta, even if it was only until the opening ceremonies. I turned and without warning, to him or myself, hugged him tightly.

He fell backwards, caught off guard, and then returned my hug. Just for that single, beautiful moment, I forgot where we were and where we were going.

Just for that single, beautiful moment, I felt safe.


	4. Chapter 4: Flying

Chapter 4

The chariot rolls up beside me. Cinna explained this fire idea about five times to me, but I am not feeling very reassured. Effie is thrilled about the whole idea, and Haymitch is nowhere to be found.

Then Peeta walks up, dressed identically to how I am. I feel such relief, and much more light-spirited, at the sight of him. He beams when he sees me.

"What do think about this?" Peeta asks, his shoulder brushing mine.

Just from that small contact, I feel slightly incoherent. Is this how Haymitch feels drunk? If so, maybe I understand why he's never sober.

"About the fire..." Peeta cocks his head, confused at my lack of response.

"Oh! Um... well, my opinion of Cinna's sanity could go either way at this point," I reply, attempting to clear my head.

Peeta laughs. Making him laugh... I sigh contentedly.

"Okay, let's give this a try," Portia says excitedly.

Cinna steps forward and lights our capes. I cringe, waiting for the pain, but there is none. I take a deep breath. I look over to Peeta to see how he is faring, and I am dazed by what I see. He is breathtaking. The synthetic flames made his blue eyes even more intense.

They hold me in a trance until Portia says, "Okay, you're up next! Good luck!"

It isn't until Peeta looks away that I realize he too had been entranced. Well, I probably look nothing like I normally do.

The chariot moves bumpily forward, and without thinking I grab Peeta's hand to steady myself. He looks at me, bewildered.

I quickly remove my hand.

"Sorry," I mumble. What am I doing? He's probably so repelled by how I've been acting around him, all the blushing and staring. He probably thinks I'm a freak. He probably...

Peeta Mellark is holding my hand.

I look at our joined hands and then up at him, starry-eyed. I feel utterly impractical and irrational and flighty, completely unlike myself. His face is flushed, I'm sure from the glare of the lights. The horses leading the chariot turn into the stadium and hightail it down the center. The crowd shrieks then cheers at the sight of our flaming costumes, the other tributes forgotten.

I feel as though I'm flying as the chariot races over the smooth pavement, but maybe that's just from holding Peeta's hand. He squeezes my hand once, twice, three times. Then we raise our intertwined hands to the crowd, as though we are victorious.

There with Peeta, I feel almost giddy with the audience screaming our name. A wondrous, sparkly charge starts from our hands and extends throughout me. I have never felt more vulnerable or more powerful in all my life.

I see our faces broadcasted on the multiple screens, and our unequivocal beauty mystifies me. You can't even tell that I'm from the Seam and that Peeta's from the town. We look so strong, so united together.

We pull up next to the other chariots, the ride over. Throughout the president's unbelievably long, boring speech, Peeta doesn't release my hand.

We roll back around the circle, the cameras lingering on us. The other tributes and prep teams glower at us for stealing the spotlight. Despite my leftover exhilaration, I shrink back a little under the glare of the ferocious District Two tributes. Peeta squeezes my hand, and I look up at him to see his ever-present smile directed at me. That smile however disappears when he returns the Careers' glare.

I get worried. What is he doing? He's making himself even more of a target than we both already are! If he dies because he defended me here... it will be like I killed him. I could never handle that.

I think about it then. Peeta dying. The thought brings on a flurry of emotions, from anger to panic to unbearable sadness. A world without Peeta...

I touch his arm, forcing him to look at me. He does, and I whisper to him to calm down, that everything's okay.

He shakes his head. "They better leave you alone."

I'm taken aback. No one has really tried to protect me since my father. Gale and I watch each other's backs, but he never worries about me. Normally I would be offended that someone thinks I can't handle myself, but somehow I know that Peeta doesn't mean it that way. I've had to take care of myself for so long... it's kind of nice having someone to shield me.

All this in mind, I impulsively stand on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.


	5. Chapter 5: Fireflies

**I would like to open this extra-long chapter with an extra-special shout-out to Katnisseverdeen13! You have reviewed every chapter and it means so much to me! To everyone else who reviewed, I love you guys! DFTBA! (Don't Forget To Be Awesome!) **

Chapter 5

After the recap of the tribute parade, I head to bed. I feel extraordinarily blissful. I start thinking about the events of the past day. All I can remember is Peeta. Peeta holding my hand, Peeta defending me, Peeta laughing...

Tomorrow is the first day of Training. Haymitch told us earlier not to showcase our talent in front of the other tributes, something I understand. It would make us targets in the Careers' eyes. My only chance for a bow and arrow in that arena is during my private session with the Gamemakers. But what if they don't put one in anyway? Like Gale said, I could make one. But it wouldn't be nearly as strong.

And what will the arena be like anyway? The possibilities are endless.

The more I think, the more restless I get. I give up and throw off my covers. I go out to the hallway to take a walk, and…

"Oof!" I grunt after slamming into something going in the opposite direction.

"Sorry," a familiar voice whispers back.

"Peeta?"

"Hi," he smiles in the dark.

"Hi," I repeat him, feeling stupidly happy.

"What are you doing?" he asks me.

"I couldn't sleep, so I was taking a walk."

"Same here. I was going up to the roof, would you care to join me?" he asks, followed by a wink.

I blush at his mock formality. "Sure." He holds out his hand for me to take, bowing to me. My cheeks flush pink again, hopefully obscured by the dark.

Always the gentleman, he holds the door to the roof open for me. He always treats me like such a lady. It makes me feel so special.

I go up, unsure of what to expect. I walk to the balcony, Peeta behind me. The Capitol is lit up, much like the fireflies Prim and I used to catch in old glass jars. I look up at the stars, finding much more beauty in them than in the synthetic lights of the Capitol.

Peeta comes up behind me.

"What are you thinking?" he asks. I barely catch his whisper over the winds.

"How beautiful that is," I point at the sky.

He stands beside me. "Will you dance with me?"

Color rushes to my face. "I don't know how."

"That's okay. A girl that can hit her game in the eye every time with a bow and arrow doesn't need to be good at dancing," he repeats his praise from earlier. He holds out his hand and I take it. He spins me close to him, placing one hand on my shoulder and one on my waist.

"Thanks for that, by the way," I can barely choke out the words, his embrace robbing me of my voice. On instinct, I lay my head on his shoulder.

"What?" he murmurs, his cheek on my hair.

"You know... talking me up. It was very... kind... of you."

"I only spoke the truth. Katniss Everdeen, you tend to underrate yourself."

My name on his lips makes my heartbeat pick up. "That's not true."

"Oh yeah? Well, I'd bet you'd be the last to admit how incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful you looked tonight," Peeta says, the flattery erasing what would have otherwise been a retort.

My breath caught in my throat. How could he think that? What feature of mine could he possibly find attractive? I was no Madge. No blonde hair, no pretty blue eyes, no fair skin... and my background as a Seam girl couldn't conceivably be appealing to anyone.

We continued to sway to the imaginary music. But I heard it. It was a slow song, beckoning, quiet, peaceful. It made the edges of my vision soften, closing off the rest of the world. Except for Peeta.

"Thank you," I say inaudibly.

"For what?"

"You remember."

Peeta pulls back and stares at me, perplexed. Then recognition dawns on his face.

"You mean the bread? From when we were kids?"

"Yeah," I whisper, unable to look him in the eye.

"I just wanted to help you. I didn't want you to hold on to that," Peeta says worriedly.

"I just feel so guilty that I never thanked you. You saved my life."

Not speaking, Peeta takes a loose curl and tucks it behind my ear, his fingers brushing my face. The way he is looking at me... it makes me feel beautiful.

I lead Peeta to the bench and we sit down together. We talk about everything. I tell him things that no one else knows, not even Gale. I tell him how lost I felt that day, and how much I miss my mother and the relationship we used to have. Peeta listens, and it feels like he understands. He tells me secrets in return. He tells me how homesick he is, and especially how much he misses his father.

"Oh Peeta..." I whisper. I reach out to console him, and then pull back, struck with an idea. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." I dash back inside.

I race through the hallways, not caring anymore whose sleep I disturb. I go into my room and snatch Peeta's father's cookies from the top drawer of my dresser. I hadn't known what to do with them. I hadn't wanted to owe the Mellarks anymore than I already did, but I also hadn't wanted to disrespect the gesture.

I hurry back up to the roof, wanting to give Peeta an explanation for my leaving him hanging. I run over to him and breathlessly hand him the box. He opens it, a puzzled expression donning his face. He peers inside, and starts, shocked.

"Is it...?" he whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back.

He takes out a cookie and inhales the scent most familiar to him. He breaks it in half and offers me the bigger half. I smile and accept it, figuring he wouldn't let me refuse if I try to do so.

"What do you think our families are doing right now?" Peeta asks.

I think for a moment. They'd all be asleep.

"Dreaming about us."

**Whoa! Longest chapter EVA! A million thanks to by beta reader and BFFL, PotteringTribute. She writes amazingly, fantastically well! Check out her stories! :D**

**And pretty pretty please with chocolate on top (I hate cherries) REVIEW! :D **


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